


Something Close (Something Familiar)

by spectreleaders (SilverSie)



Series: Kanera Week 2020 [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, F/M, Hera got thirsty y'all idk what to say, Intimacy, Mentions of razors, Pining, Shaving, The Importance of Facial Hair: A Kanan Jarrus Story, a little bit of angst but it's s3 what are ya gonna do, oops feels happened, this was actually just an excuse to write about Hera's hair kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26256478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverSie/pseuds/spectreleaders
Summary: Hera helps Kanan shave, and she reminisces. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but it aches all the same.for Kanera Week 2020Day 4: trust
Relationships: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla
Series: Kanera Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906114
Comments: 12
Kudos: 38
Collections: Kanera Week 2020





	Something Close (Something Familiar)

**Author's Note:**

> !! PLEASE note that there are a lot of mentions of razors and blades in this, especially being close to skin. Every instance is only in regards to shaving but if you think the word association may bother you please be careful! No cuts occur & there is no blood, only minor razor burn. ❤
> 
> Takes place closely after season 3 e1-2 Steps Into Shadow.
> 
> This got a little sexy and I'm not quite sure how that happened 💃

Hera shifts her weight for the third time in as many minutes, wondering how she was going to approach the task at hand. In her hands she idly fiddles with the object Kanan entrusted her with.

He sits across from her now, freshly showered, hair loose about his bare shoulders and still damp. He’s waiting patiently, his pale, unseeing eyes directed over her left shoulder. They shift every once in a while, as if searching for her. “Ready to start?” His amusement at her hesitance is clearly apparent in his voice.

She sighs and there is no small amount of skepticism in her own, “I’ll _try._ ”

Kanan smiles and one corner of his mouth lifts higher than the other in a way that is old, well-known and dear to her. “It’ll be fine. I trust you.”

She knows that already, is only slightly reassured by it─

He continues, in a tone lighter than she’s heard from him in months, “But once I put on the gel there’s _kind of_ no going back, and I don’t want it to look like _I_ tried to do this. So,” His eyebrows raise in a challenge, “Are you sure you’re ready?”

He’s goading her now and it steels her resolve. Hera narrows her eyes. “Yes.” She’s sure he would have done fine on his own anyway, from the years of practice─

But at her confirmation he stands, and crosses to the basin of water they prepared. It sits now on the table in her cabin, cooled only marginally in the time they’d spent seated across from each other while he showed her what to do.

Kanan washes his face quickly and picks up a small metallic canister, shaking it to activate the gel inside. He sprays a moderate amount into his palm and applies it to most of his beard with practiced hands, leaving only his chin bare somewhat in the shape of a familiar goatee.

The sharp, fresh scent hits Hera like a tidal wave. She’s surprised to find that it makes her heart ache, that’s it’s almost nostalgic─she didn’t realize how much she’d missed it over the past six months.

A minute later Kanan is bringing everything with him back to where he was sitting on her bed, drawing her from her thoughts. The basin and canister he carefully sets on a chair next to her, and the towel he lays over his leg. When he’s settled again, he turns his face to either side so she can inspect the foam that now hides the lower half of it. “Everything covered?”

She leans forward, reaches out her empty hand so that she can smooth over a patch missing on the underside of his jaw, and wipes the residue off on the towel. “Mmhm.”

“Okay. It just needs to sit for a minute while it works and then you can start.” He tries to give her a reassuring smile, but the effect is a little lost under the foam. But it makes her laugh. “What, do I have something on my face?”

“You’re hilarious,” she says dryly. The white, foamy beard makes her think of Rex, and subsequently she wonders what Kanan will look like when his hair starts to go gray. She finds herself looking forward to it.

A few more moments of comfortable silence pass before he says, “Okay, you can start.”

Hera takes a breath, scooting her stool closer for a comfortable angle, ending up with his knee situated between her legs. She’s watched him do this routine hundreds of times over the years─partially out of curiosity, some interest, and mild horror. She knows what to expect, that the gel would help dissolve some of the hair for easier removal. It sounds wholly unpleasant to her, but many dealings with hair seemed so. 

In any case, she knows that mostly what she has to do is just... scrape it away. With a sharp piece of metal. Never mind that it has a protective guard on it.

(She recalls one morning from their early years, standing in the shower with him and expressing interest in washing his hair for the first time, back when it was still too short to even be pulled into a ponytail. She was all curiosity and eagerness on that day, her fascination with it new and exciting. She remembers his laugh when she used far too much shampoo. The copious amount of lather it created, and playfully dabbing the excess over the hair on his chin so it was covered in white bubbles.)

And when she finally holds the razor close to his skin, when she brings it downward in a test swipe and nothing comes away but foam, the way his shoulders shake is the exact same as that day.

“Kanan,” Hera says, exasperated. “Please don’t laugh while I hold a blade to your face.”

“Sorry,” he says as he tries to suppress a smile and his laughter so that he doesn’t interrupt her work before it’s even begun, “But you need to press harder.”

Hera makes a noise in her throat, part annoyance and a touch of worry.

His hand rests on her knee, then. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

Her eyes flick over his face, and sitting this close, they can almost meet his own. “Okay.”

She tries again, and this time a stripe of skin is left bare in the razor’s wake. She nods approvingly to herself and washes it in the basin, dabs it on the towel, and returns it to his face.

As she slowly moves along his jaw bit by bit, her other hand gently holds his chin, and his eyes slowly close. It’s easier than she thought it would be, but it also takes her much longer than it would have for him. Or used to. She wonders if he’s meditating or just relaxed. He spends a lot of time meditating, these days.

But when she finishes his left side, Kanan automatically tilts his head back so that she can access under his jaw easily. It makes her gaze wander across the curve of his throat, down to the hair of his chest. The line it tracks down his middle. He’s never shaved that, to her memory, and she wonders if some humans do. Simultaneously, she remembers that he can’t appreciate her wandering eyes anymore, and she refocuses.

“Doing okay?” she asks softly, not specifying whether she’s asking after him or the quality of her work.

Either way, he hums in affirmation as she pulls the razor across his skin, and she can feel the reverberation through her fingertips. A dirty thought chases after it, but she doesn’t have much time to consider it before he speaks again as she lifts the razor away. “I could get used to this.”

Her tone becomes amused at that, “You just want another excuse to be alone.”

His hand is still warm and heavy on her knee and it squeezes gently. “Do I need one?”

Her eyes flick across the contour of his cheek, the outline of his nose, his mouth, before returning to her task. “No.”

With another swipe she’s done with the underside and he drops his head to face her once more. He’s starting to look like himself again, as she knew him for so many years. Her eyes drop to where she’s cleaning the razor.

She knows he’ll never be quite the same. And that’s okay. It’s enough just to have him back.

His voice grounds her again just as she’s about to start on the other side, “Are _you_ alright?”

Her hand hesitates with the razor. She knows that he can sense _something_ in her with the Force, but it’s the truth when she replies, “I’m fine.” As the blade glides across his skin she continues, softer. “I missed you, love.”

The hand on her knee moves, curls beneath it, and his thumb grazes the fabric of her thermal sleepwear. It’s a thin barrier between them, but she suddenly and inexplicably wants to feel his skin on hers. “Yeah,” his tone is somber, “You too.”

She hears the apology in his words and wishes to kiss it quiet─can’t, until she’s done. She settles for tucking a wayward strand of hair behind his ear, and pressing her lips against the bridge of his nose. When she pulls away his sadness has softened.

It’s only when she returns to her work once again that he gives a small huff of a laugh. “Not the most romantic atmosphere, is it?”

She smiles, “I like this just fine.”

The right side goes faster as she becomes more confident in the strokes, and soon she’s left with the last task of trimming around the area of his goatee. He’d left it untouched by the gel since it needed a precise shave, and so she was left with only her memory and his guidance. The rough and unkempt edge it has now reminds her of when they were younger. When they first met.

Her finger traces a line from the corner of his mouth, then lays inward at a sharper angle. “Here?”

“Mmhm. Don’t worry, I won’t be mad if we have to shave it off.”

Hera’s eyes narrow. “I would _never_.”

An eyebrow lifts with a teasing smile, “Then I guess you better be careful.”

She grabs his chin once again and lifts it in a sudden and familiar gesture, enjoying the expression on his face as she did so. His eyes are hooded and heavy, half-closed; he almost could be looking at her mouth. The razor grazes his skin with the most care yet, carving out an approximation of her memory on either side. When she’s satisfied, she smiles and strokes her thumb down the dip of his chin, pulling at the hair lightly. Just like she used to. His smile unknowingly reflects hers when she does.

“Okay.” She leans back to let him wipe his face with the towel and feel her handiwork. And she has to say, she’s quite satisfied with the result. There are only a few red marks here and there, and she thinks maybe they’ll fade by morning. She hopes they don’t hurt.

Kanan seems pleased, too. He opens his mouth to speak but she beats him to it; she surges forward then, presses close and kisses him. The sharp smell of the shaving gel is sharper still and overwhelming in the best way when she’s this close. She could get lost in the scent of him.

He smiles into the kiss, leans into her to prolong it. Meets her in the middle. Invites her in.

His jaw is smooth under her hand, not exactly as she remembers due to the razor and her ineptitude, but close enough. But the way he tastes─the way he kisses her─is exactly the same. When they part, they don’t pull away.

He’s still smiling sweetly. “Like it?”

“Mmhm. But I like the beard too,” her knuckles graze against his skin, “I missed the smell.”

Surprise shows on his face at that. “Oh, really?”

“Didn’t realize how used to it I was,” she leans back now, getting another look, “I can’t believe you did this every other day.”

A smile pulls at his mouth. “Don’t worry, I don’t expect you to do the same. Might have to stick with the beard for a while, things are busy around here.”

The smile she gives in return is sad, “Yeah. We’ll see.”

Kanan stands to clean up the clutter scattered around them, but before he moves away he presses another kiss to her forehead. “It’s perfect. Thanks, hon.”

He slips out of her cabin to replace the items he took from the fresher, and she’s a little unsure of what to do. She stands and puts away the stool she was using, wonders if he’ll go back to his own cabin, wants to ask him to stay. Wonders if he needs more time. 

Before she can make a decision he comes back to her, just as he always does. Her relief and hope are palpable as he comes to stand close to her again. There is a breathless, anticipatory moment before he reaches for her almost tentatively. But he knows exactly where she is, her face, her cheek. She leans into his touch and everything is _right_. His other hand moves to hold her face with more confidence, tracing the line of her brow and curve of her smile. He seeks out her features through touch and she lets him, her own hands resting on his chest, feeling the hair between her fingers. She hopes that she is _exactly_ as he remembers her. In his normally placid expression she can still see the soft look she’s become so used to over the years, tinged with the same roguish smirk.

His thumb presses her lip, “Want to go to bed?”

His words are a low rumble in his chest that make her lekku curl at the ends and he somehow _knows_ , can either sense it or maybe that’s just how well he knows her—and his hand moves to tangle with one of them, fingers and lek intertwining. It pulls her closer to him and sends a thrill through her like sweet fire, bright like a star. Her own voice is breathless when she asks him, “You’re staying?”

“If you’ll have me.”

And her hands reach up, wind around his shoulders and behind his neck to caress and brush through the long locks of hair that she still adores, even after nearly seven years. The last word between them is another one old and familiar, tried-and-true and full of promise:

“Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can also be found on [twitter](https://twitter.com/spectreleaders) and [tumblr](https://spectreleaders.tumblr.com/), where I mostly yell about these two babes. Thanks for reading! 💞


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